


Love is not a Fairytale (Except it Kind of is)

by fayrose



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, First Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 12:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22495849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fayrose/pseuds/fayrose
Summary: In which each member of the Mighty Nein realise/learn about Beau’s feelings for Jester before Jester does, and reflect on their own experience of love along the way.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett, Yasha/Zuala (Critical Role), mentions of Nott/Yeza - Relationship
Comments: 12
Kudos: 246





	Love is not a Fairytale (Except it Kind of is)

**Nott**

Nott lay in the darkness and watched a love story unfold. She hoped.

Across the room in a well of candlelight, Jester and Beau sat huddled together, silent and content. There was enough floor space for them to sleep separately, more than enough, but this is what they did. It was what they had always done. They were the roommates. They shared beds and bedrolls and no one thought anything of it. Except now, Nott thought, that maybe there had been signs.

Like just a few minutes earlier, when Jester had slipped back into their shared room in the Gentleman’s establishment and her near soundless approach had caused a soundly sleeping Beau to stir and wake before even Nott’s keen ears had heard her coming.

It made Nott think of nights in Felderwin, long ago. She had always woken to the sound of Yeza’s soft footsteps, her husband sneaking up to bed after a late night of experiments. The mere presence of the person she loved most in the world had been enough to pull her from sleep. Even when she had been heavily pregnant and so tired that she thought that she would never feel fully awake again. Yeza had always been her person. The one she had an almost symbiotic existence with. At least… she had.

But she wouldn’t dwell on her and Yeza. Or her and… no. Right now she needed to distract herself. And what better way than to focus on Beau and what exactly her intentions towards Jester were? Because Nott felt protective towards Jester but also, strangely, towards Beau as well.

So she watched as Beau – her eyes heavy with sleep – had pulled herself somewhat ungracefully from her tangle of blankets and lifted a corner to invite Jester inside.

Something in Jester had been off. Her momentary pause in the lit doorway had given Nott a view of her face as they briefly locked eyes. Jester was caught in the middle of some kind of quandary. Happy but confused. Disappointed but accepting. All emotions that Beau seemed to pick up on immediately.

“Oh Jessie, come here,” Beau had whispered, opening her arms wide and smiling sadly at the woman – Nott realised with shock– that she loved.

Not just like. Not just ‘had a crush on’. But LOVED. The kind the got written in all capitals on your heart the moment it beat in time with another’s.

And in response… Well, Jester all but dove across the room, narrowly missing a gently snoring Caduceus in her dash to reach Beau’s embrace. She hadn’t spared another look at Nott. She had just burrowed under the blanket and into Beau’s arms, sighing contentedly as Beau whispered something that only she could hear.

Whatever it was, Nott knew that she had said it with love.

**Caleb**

There’s a battlefield before them, somewhere in their future. They could all feel it. War was in the air, bubbling over into every corner of every town, no matter how far from the front.

The attack on Rexxentrum had taken them by surprise. Both the Nein and the everyday people of the Empire. Rexxentrum was so far inside the border that they had all thought it safe. Protected by distance, and perhaps, the Nein’s naïveté. Naïveté that would have them believe that as long as they were after the beacon – at least in a larger, less immediate sense – then there would be some kind of… well if not a ceasefire from Xhorhas then at least a lack of escalation.

They had been distracted, yes, but by the kind of world-ending things that could not wait. Yasha and the Chained Oblivion and cults so out of their depth that they were playing with the very existence of sane, free life on Exandria. Those were not the kind of forces that you could put on hold whilst you searched for a lost relic. Not even the kind that a whole civilisation’s religion revolved around.

And now… now they were peacekeepers. Supposedly working for a force that none of them trusted, yet were wholly beholden to. Pissing off the Xhorhassians would have been one thing… They could have retreated back into the Empire or the Menagerie Coast. The Bright Queen could have sent assassins after them but they were so unimportant back then that she probably wouldn’t have bothered. But the Empire… the Empire and its institutions were insidious. Their shadow assassins would hunt them to the ends of the Earth. As far even as Allura’s Tal’dorei.

Trent played at indifference, but Caleb knew that it was an act. If he had his way, he would rip away any remnant of home and family that any of them had. Beauregard, as little as she cared for her family, would have to find a way to get them out. Jester would move the world to save her mother, and the Nein would move it right along with her. Then of course there was Nott and her husband and child. Whatever they did in this time and place, however the peace treaty and their dealings with Trent went… it could endanger it all.

“I said her name.”

Caleb looked up from the book he had been reading, pouring over his Dunamantic spells for any small hope of a way out of this mess. Beau was sat beside him by the fire, picking at the ribbon Jester had tied to her staff. It was frayed now and battle-worn, but still as bright a blue as ever.

“Ja,” he confirmed. “I am sorry.”

“S’not you’re fault,” she muttered. “S’mine.”

She was exhausted, they all were, but, like himself, he doubted she would sleep tonight.

Caleb was sure that they were being watched in the Cottage’s common room. Which is why tonight they were all crammed into one room, whiling the evening away. One room with alarms on the doors and windows, and a thorough sweep by Fjord’s new all-seeing sword. Still, they had to assume that they were being watched. They had to be careful about what they did and did not say.

“I am sure that they would have gotten our names by some magical means,” Caleb said, aiming to comfort her at least a little.

He understood her anguish. She alone of the Nein knew and appreciated everything that Trent had done. Nott knew the facts, but Caleb didn’t think that she quite grasped the true extent of the manipulation, the utter overwhelming overwriting of everything Bren had been. But Beauregard understood. Nott feared Goblins and Ghouls. The monsters of the world. Beauregard knew that the races more commonly regarded as ‘people’ could be far crueller. She had even experienced a little of it herself.

“If they hurt her…” Beau gritted out, her teeth clenched so hard that she must be in pain from it.

Her understood that too. Inflicting a little pain to punish yourself.

“I will burn them to the ground before I allow them to do that,” he promised her.

For them to hurt Jester would be worst of all. She was so full of light and kindness. So ready to see the good in the world, even when no one else could. Trent would ruin her. Break her in a way that Caleb wasn’t sure that they could pull her back from. After all, Caleb had once been wide eyed and idealistic too.

Then Trent had cut it out of him with every slice of his dagger. Every white-hot pain as another shard of crystal had been slipped inside his body. Every defilement of the boy he had been, leaving scars to show that he could never go back to Bren the boy. Bren who had loved his parents and his Empire in that order. Scars that he imagined marring the soft blue of Jester’s forearms. Cutting through the delicate, glittering lines of her tattoo.

“Fuck!”

Beau had sworn so loud that the whole room had stopped what they were doing to look at her.

“Sorry, fuck. Just an ember from the fire,” she lied.

Caleb watched as her face contorted, the pain she was feeling of the mind, not the body.

“Do you need me to heal you?” Jester asked worriedly, jumping up from whatever she and Caduceus had been doing to run to Beau’s side.

“No, no it’s fine. Didn’t even leave a mark. Just scared me a little.”

More lies, but Caleb didn’t begrudge them.

Jester, it seemed, didn’t believe her either, but in an entirely different direction. She poured over Beau’s body, lifting her arms and unfurling her legs, looking for any sign of injury.

“Jessie,” Beau said, her voice as soft as her expression as she smiled gently at Jester. Softer and more gently and with her eyes filled with more tenderness and affection than she ever showed to anyone else and… oh.

No wonder her worry for Jester was consuming her. Beauregard, against all expectations, was in love.

**Yasha**

Yasha knew what it was to be in love. She knew love in all its shades and stages. In its brilliant sunny yellows and blood-stained reds, it’s sorrowful blues and the empty greyness that the sorrow left behind. She knew it. She had felt the shame that came from falling for someone that she knew could never ben her mate but loved non the less. She knew the brilliant excitement of love when it was new. And most of all, she lived now in the soul crushing, life ending rawness of loss, of walking around with a hole in her chest where Zuala once lived. Where now was only death and emptiness and whole other kind of shame.

So that’s why – when she saw the true depth of the fear in Beau’s eyes when their foe turned its attention from Beau herself to the approaching Jester – that Yasha knew that Beau was in love.

At first, she was jealous. Only for a moment. Not because she wanted to be in either woman’s position. She’d had Zuala and lost her. That was it for Yasha. She neither expected nor wanted to love again. She did not think she was capable. And to do so would feel like desecrating a grave that she did not have it in herself to even visit.

No, Yasha was jealous for a wholly different reason. She was jealous that Beau got to be afraid that Jester might die. Because that meant that Jester was alive. It meant that Beau had the world to fight for. To live for. And that, Yasha knew, was a precious thing. One that could all too suddenly be taken away.

Once she noticed it – Beau’s love, that is – Yasha didn’t know how she hadn’t noticed it the moment she rejoined the group. The dynamic in their shared room had been… off. She had put it down to the strangeness of sharing her space with friends again and, perhaps, some lingering mistrust or unease that they may have around her. But now she understood. She might not have been a famous rock harp player in her blackout years, but she knew a little about rhythm. Enough to spot it in the way that Beau and Jester moved around one another. Enough to see the way that her presence in their space threw it off. Not because either of them wished she wasn’t there, but because the two of them alone was a complete melody. She was chord that was obsolete.

She wasn’t sure if the other members of the Nein had noticed it yet, and she would not rat Beau out. But she would try to talk to her. Remind her that time and life were fickle things. Things that in their line of work, they could not risk taking for granted.

“Beauregard, may I speak to you.”

“Yeah. Uh. Sure.”

“Please would you walk with me a little?”

Where Yasha walked, Beau tentatively followed. As the warm light of their campfire faded and they passed out into the darkness beyond, Beau flipped her goggles onto her eyes and blinked slowly into the night. The lack of direct eye contact was a relief for Yasha. She did not think she was up to that yet. Not with any of them. It hurt too much to see that they didn’t hate her.

They walked until they found an outcropping of rock where they could dangle their legs and look out over the moon-lit landscape. In this light, the land around them reminded Yasha of home. Of Zuala tracking through the sparse woodland. Of stolen moments than time and fate had stolen back.

“What’s this about?” Beau asked eventually, clearly trying her hardest not to sound pissed off. She was shivering, though. Yasha had forgotten how much Beau and Caleb felt the cold. They seemed to feel everything so intensely, those two. Maybe it was the human thing, but Yasha doubted it.

“I would like to talk to you about Zuala and… Jester.”

Beau frowned, then softened. Then looked almost ready for a fight.

“Does Jess remind you of her or something? Your wife, I mean.”

“Oh, no. Not at all,” Yasha said quickly, before Beau could get the wrong idea. “Jester is a very different person from Zuala. Though I suppose in different circumstances they could have been more alike.”

Beau relaxed beside her, her dangling feet beginning to sway in the night air.

“I know that we’re not, like, the closest or anything. But you can talk to me about her if you want.”

“No that is… err… No, thank you. But I would like to talk to you about Jester.”

Beau froze.

“How’d you know?”

“I saw your concern for her. And then, once I had an idea, it was pretty obvious.”

“Great,” Beau huffed. “Even when I try to be super subtle I’m clearly failing.”

“Perhaps it is just that I know what to look out for. I think… I think that we are perhaps similar, you and I, Beauregard.”

“How so?” Beau asked, half standoffish, half eager.

“Our families did not understand us. Often the world judges us before they get to know us. Perhaps that is why we look for the light itself instead of what the fight can bring us. Why I looked for Zuala and you for Jester.”

“Hmm.”

Clearly she was not convinced.

“I am not asking you to talk about your feelings, Beauregard. I think that you know me better than to think that I would be any more comfortable in that situation than you. But I wanted to talk to you anyway. To remind you that love is easily lost. Especially in the kind of life that we live.”

“Love is a pretty strong word.”

“But you are in love.”

It wasn’t a question. They both knew the answer.

“So?”

Yasha looked out over the plains. She could see a copse of trees to their left. Thin, hardy trees like the kind that occasionally grew in small groups in her part of Xhorhas. They reminded her of times spent hunting with Zuala. Helping her skin a still warm rabbit and sharing the meat over a midday fire. That one memory was enough to fill her with enough warmth – no matter how fleeting – that she did not think that she would have felt even the fiercest of icy winds.

“No matter how it ended, I do not regret what Zuala and I had. We had love. She knew that I loved her and I knew that she loved me. Now that she is gone, that is a comfort to me. That and the memories of the times we shared as mates.”

“You’re saying that I should tell Jester that I love her in case I die?”

“Regret is the most terrible thing, Beauregard. I would not wish the depth of regret that I feel on anyone. Let alone you.”

“I’m not good enough for her,” Beau muttered, smothering with her foot a lone flower growing courageously out of the rockside.

“Do you not think that that is for her to decide?”

They sat in silence for a while. Both lost in their own thoughts until Beau’s shivering become too pronounced to ignore.

“Come on. We had better get back. The others will be worried.”

When they arrived back at camp, Nott was eyeing them suspiciously. She was crouching by the fire, tracking their movements like they were prey.

“What were you two doing?” She asked accusingly, jabbing the dagger she had been sharpening in their direction. “You weren’t fucking, were you?”

Yasha watched as Jester snapped to attention at that, her deep blue eyes going big and wide as she looked worriedly between Yasha and Beau.

“What? No! Don’t be stupid.” Beau replied, as brash as ever. “We were just having girl talk, that’s all. Just because we fuck other women doesn’t mean we can’t have girl talk, alright!”

Everyone but Yasha and Caduceus flinched.

“Nott!” Jester admonished. “Of course not, Beau. Nott is just being silly, aren’t you Nott?”

Beau and Nott stared each other down for an uncomfortably long period of time before Nott finally nodded and relaxed back onto her log.

“Fine, yeah, sure, whatever.”

After that, Jester ushered Beau closer to the fire and draped a blanket around her shoulders. She was smiling up at Beau brightly and for just a moment, Yasha was sure that she could hear Zuala laughing.

**Fjord**

He noticed it in the middle of one of their scariest battles yet.

It was a stressful day, even for them. Near death situations had been had by all, but what they all were struggling to deal with was the horrifying realisation that the person nearest to death had been Jester.

Beau had been down numerous times. Caleb perhaps even more. And whilst Fjord could remember Jester being knocked unconscious in the heat of combat before, it had never been for that long. It had only ever been moments before Caduceus or a health potion had gotten her back on her feet.

This time it had been… longer. Considerably longer. Caduceus had been incapacitated and try as they might, none of the rest of them could get to Jester with a health potion. Not for a really, really long time.

It had been Nott who had eventually saved her. Just when Jester’s breaths had started to slow and turn shallow. Just as Beau, held tight beside a stunned Caduceus in the creature’s grasp, screamed out for their downed cleric. The kind of scream that you can never unhear. The kind that Fjord was certain he would hear in his nightmares night after night.

And then… Jester had been alive. Irrefutably alive as she had rushed at the beast and inflicted such wounds that it had died in an instant of tremendous pain. Pain which it – in Fjord’s opinion – more than deserved for hurting his friends.

“Yo, that was awesome Jessie!” Beau had said with more shake than bravado from the spot on the ground where the now deceased monster had dropped her. “I’m just gonna, you know. Sleep here a little.”

They had all noticed then how badly Beau was hurt. Fjord had no idea how she had managed to remain conscious with the deep slashes in her belly and neck. But if the scream had anything to do with it, he was pretty sure that the only thing holding her together had been the desperate need to get to Jester.

“Damn it, Beau,” Fjord said with a wince as he wrapped his palm around her rapidly bleeding throat and cast Lay on Hands. “What the hell were you thinking, taunting the damn thing like that?”

“Had no health potions,” she croaked, her throat raw and, most likely, still torn after his meagre healing. “Had to get Caduceaus free. For Jester.”

Despite the fact that Beau’s wounds were inarguably far worse than Jester’s, once they were all healed up and hobbling towards the nearest inn for a good strong drink and a warm bed, it wasn’t Beau that they were all fussing over, but Jester.

“You guys, I’m fine!” Jester insisted. “The Traveller wouldn’t just let me die! I’m his favourite, you know? He told me.”

“Yeah – urgh – even so. I think we need to set out some kind of system for health potions. It’s kind of pointless for one person to have three of them if that person can’t get to someone who is down,” Beau said, taking charge as she often did these days. She was looking Fjord dead in the eye as she said it, but he wasn’t offended. He agreed.

“That’s my fault. I should have handed these out. Here, everyone without a health potion please take one.”

Fjord pulled three basic and one greater healing potion out of his bag and lined them up on the table.

Beau grabbed a basic and slid the greater towards Caleb.

“Here. I’m going to get a drink.”

“But you already have a drink!” Jester called after her as Beau slid out of the booth and stumbled her way over to the bar.

“I think she just needs something a little stronger,” Fjord reassured her. “I’ll go make sure she’s okay.”

He hadn’t even gotten within ten feet of her when Beau’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Wanna go fuck each other up?”

For the briefest moments, Fjord was confused. Then he realised what she was asking.

“Is this just your way of beating me into a bloody pulp?”

“Or the other way around. Either way works. Just need to punch something.”

“Does this mean we can skip training in the morning?”

“No.”

He sighed. He was pretty sure that Beau wouldn’t skip training even if a volcano was erupting around them. Which, given their upcoming destination, wasn’t entirely out of the question.

“Lead the way.”

Beau led him out into a back alley that she had clearly scoped out earlier. It was pretty narrow, but it was deserted and dark, so he supposed it would do. At least when she won, no one would see him pass out.

“So, you wanna talk or are we just going to punch?”

Her fist connected hard with his chin, snapping back his head and making him see stars.

“I guess just fists then.”

Mid way through his sentence, Fjord rocked forward on the balls his feet, and struck out at Beau’s core. He had aimed as close to centre as he could, yet still managed to strike nothing but fresh air.

“Gonna need to try harder than that,” Beau said as she brought her fists up in front of her chest and waited, poised for his next attack.

Fjord feinted to the left, then struck out hard with his foot, swiping for Beau’s legs. Again, nothing. She seemed not even to move in place as she deftly jumped above his sweep, taking the opportunity to rain down four consecutive hits to the side of his head.

This time, Fjord retreated, dodging just out of the way of her next attack.

“Fists aren’t fair,” he panted.

“So use your sword,” Beau bit, anger flashing in her eyes. “Or this isn’t even worth it. I might as well be punching Frumpkin.”

Saying a quick prayer for guidance to the Wildmother, Fjord summoned his new blade and dove for his friend.

This time, he felt an impact. The cold steel of his sword sliced through flesh once, then again, tearing through the place where Beau’s robes met at her naval and leaving them stained in a bloom of red. Far more than he had expected.

It was then that Beau really came alive. She ducked his next blow, then used her crouched position to send a flurry of punches to his stomach that left him locked in place, tensed from head to toe in a mixture of pain and itch-like tension.

Blow after blow hit him from one side, then the other as she spun around him, pulling out her staff and swiping for his legs, knocking him onto the floor before retreating and going back into her defensive stance.

Power crackled reflexively in Fjord’s palms and before he knew it, two shots of bright green energy rocketed from his palm, lighting up the alley in all it’s dank, moss-covered glory before hitting Beau square in the chest.

The blows knocked her back, but not for long. She pulled a throwing star from the pouch and her hip and launched it at his outstretched palm.

The warm metal bit into his flesh, one pointed prong sticking into his palm and making the magic there fizz.

“Come on!” She screamed. “Fucking hit me!”

“Why, so you can manipulate Jester into kissing it all better?”

He regretted it the moment it left his mouth. The pain and adrenaline of battle had made him forget who it was he was talking to. That she was his friend. Perhaps his best friend. And that this… this thing they were doing was for her catharsis, not an opportunity to say something he didn’t mean. To hurt her.

“Beau.”

“Fuck you, Fjord. Fuck you.”

With that, she turned and ambled, limping slightly, back into the inn.

Fjord dropped to the ground, panting. He sat there for a long moment, feeling the regret build in his chest, forcing his lungs into an ever-smaller space until it felt like he was drowning.

It wasn’t long until the door to the inn slammed back open and Jester, purple with rage, stormed out into the ally.

“Jester, I-”

Her palm connecting with his cheek knocked the rest of his sentence right out of his head.

“How dare you hurt her!”

“She asked for it! It was her idea!”

Jester towered above him, looking more demon than person.

“What did you say to her?!” Jester screamed, tears streaming down her cheeks. “She wouldn’t even look at us… at… at me!”

“Where is she now?” Fjord asked, getting shakily to his feet and backing away a little from the terrifying Tiefling.

“She… she talked to Yasha for a moment and then they went and bought a room just for the two of them and…”

“Oh, Jester.”

Ignoring the potential harm to life and limb (or, more accurately, to his conscience), Fjord pulled Jester into him and held her tight.

“What are they even doing that they need their own room?” Jester sobbed.

Given the fact that Fjord was pretty sure that Beau was in love with Jester, he was pretty certain that she hadn’t dragged Yasha off to let off some steam of the non-punching variety.

“I don’t know, Jess.”

She pulled away, glaring at him again before making for the inn door.

“I’m going to bed. Tell the others not to bother me, okay?”

**Caduceus**

The people at this inn were really nice people. It was a good morning. A really good morning.

The rest of the Mighty Nein were asleep in their rooms and Caduceus was slowly brewing them all tea and cooking up some eggs and spinach. Or at least, kind-of-spinach. It definitely looked and tasted like spinach. Apart from it being purple. And tasting a little… zingy. But zingy was good in the morning. He’d put a little of it into their tea. It was really nice of the inn staff to let him use their kitchen.

The second person from their merry band to wander downstairs was, predictably, Beauregard.

“Hey Caduceus.”

“Hey. I made eggs and purple stuff. Want some?”

“Sure, why not.”

Beau sat down in a booth and pulled out a book whilst she waited. Caduceus pottered around the kitchen, smiling at the way the steam curled up from the tea in waves. It was going to be a good day, he could feel it.

“Here you go,” he said as he set down a plate and wooden mug of tea in front of Beauregard. “Breakfast of heroes. Well, one hero at least.”

She was frowning at him when he slid into the booth with his own plate and mug.

“What do you mean, hero?”

“You saved my life yesterday, so there’s that. Petty sure that thing would have crushed me in one of it’s arms if you hadn’t distracted it.”

A smile appeared on Beau’s face for a flicker of a second before it was gone. Replaced again with stoicism.

“Yeah, well. That’s what friends are for. Doesn’t make me a hero. I hate that hero bullshit. So full of expectation and responsibility.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, Caduceus, can I tell you something?”

“Sure,” he said, smiling big.

“I’m in love with Jester.”

The moment she said it, she exhaled deep and dropped back against the back of the booth.

“What, you’re not going to say anything?” She said after a moment.

“Huh.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, huh.”

“Why ‘huh’?”

“I’ve been waiting a long time to hear you say it out loud.”

That got her to roll her eyes and fold her arms in front of her chest.

“Well fuck. How come everyone seems to know?”

“You – err – You love real deep. It’s kind of hard to miss.”

“Fjord and I punched the shit out of each other last night. Well, he also slashed and blasted the shit out of me, but whatever. You think he’s mad at me for liking Jester?”

Caduceus shrugged.

“A shrug? That’s all you’re giving me?”

“It’s all I have to give.”

Another loud exhale and Beau picked up her tea.

“I’m kind of worried this whole thing is going to fuck up the group.”

“First Fjord is mad at me, then Jester is going to go comfort him and they’ll get together and I’ll just be sat wallowing in a corner. I’m not sure I can do that, man. I don’t think I could stay and watch that shit.”

“What makes you so sure that Jester would choose Fjord?”

“Are you kidding me? I’m such a fucking mess, Caduceus. Not even my own dad wants me. Fjord’s got the whole Tusk Love thing going on. And what am I? Who’s going to write a romance novel about someone like me? No one, that’s who. Not even when the fucking Kryn get romance.”

She signed and slammed down her tea on the table.

“You can only be what you see, you know? And all these stupid books are feeding her some bullshit idea of what love is and I’m scared it’s going to fuck her up. She’s going to end up with someone she doesn’t really love just because she thinks that’s how the story is meant to end.”

“And how is it meant to end, Beau?”

They both froze at the sound of Jester’s voice.

“Fuck, Jessie I…”

“Don’t.”

**Jester**

Everything would be okay, Jester was sure. Except right now everything felt not okay in the biggest, more terrifying way.

She had spent all night lying awake and wondering what Beau and Yasha were doing in the room across the hall. She had even tried sneaking up to their door and listening, but all she had heard was whispering and then silence. A really long, terrifying silence. What could they be doing that was so quiet? Were they keeping quiet intentionally so that she couldn’t hear them? Did they know that she was there??

That thought had sent her skittering back to her room where she had tried to talk to the traveller. She tried all night. Whispering all these confusing feelings and fears to him. And after a while, he had sat on the end of the bed beside her and told her to follow her heart. That she already knew what she wanted. But all that did was make Jester more confused. Because she didn’t understand _at all_.

Which was why, when morning _finally_ crawled around, she had leapt from bed – Sprinkle tucked into her cloak – and had snuck into the town’s bathhouse to make herself feel more like Jester again and less like some twitchy ball of confusion.

It was pretty easy to break into the bathhouse. No one was there and the locks broke pretty easy when she hit them with her axe.

It had been difficult figuring out how to heat the water and fill the bath by herself, but she had done it in the end and had even found a bottle of rose oil to empty into it. Though maybe emptying the whole bottle into the bath had been a bad idea. It had kind of stung her eyes a little, but that was okay because then it was for sure the rose oil making her eyes water and definitely not because she was crying.

She was even feeling sort of cheery – all clean and sweet smelling – by the time she walked back into the inn. Right until she had heard Beau – the one person who had _never_ treated her like a child – complaining to Caduceus about how stupid she was and how she knew nothing about love apart from what she read in books. Which was totally not true. Not at all!

Except… maybe it was… just a little bit.

She knew her Mom’s love and the Traveller’s love. And they were both really, really great. Like, _the best_. But when it came to _love_ love, it was true that the only thing Jester knew was what she had read books. Books about fated romance and torrid affairs. Books that had been Jester’s only real window into the outside world. Books that turned out to be kind of, maybe, sort of… wrong.

“Jessie!”

She heard Beau calling for her a long time before she saw her. After she’d run out the inn, she had hidden herself down by the lake’s edge, her knees drawn up to her chest as her mind tried and failed to magnify the sound of the soft lapping of the water into the familiar call of the Nicodranas sea.

“Jess…”

She didn’t look up.

“Go away, Beau.”

“Look, Jess, I’m sorry. I just… I came to tell you that I’m leaving. I’m going back to the Archive in Zadash. I won’t bother you again.”

Jester was… confused. Sure, she was upset at what Beau had said but it didn’t mean that Beau had to leave.

She looked – her face full of a frown – up at woman who had begun to mean so much to her. More than she had let herself believe before she had seen her dragging Yasha up to bed. More than Oscar or Fjord. More than any of the other Nein.

Now here she was with her pack on her back, telling Jester that she was leaving. And Jester had never been more afraid in her life.

“It’s okay, you know, if you don’t want to room with me anymore,” she hurried out, desperate for Beau to stay. No matter what. No matter what that meant or who she was staying for. She just had to stay. She _had_ to. “You could just tell me that you want to stay with Yasha now. I – I won’t be offended. And – and I promise that I won’t get in your way.”

Except she was sobbing and clearly, definitely, way beyond offended. She was breaking inside because Beau – _Beau!_ – was going to leave just because she couldn’t stand to be around her any longer.

“Wait… wait, what? You don’t… you don’t want me to leave?” Beau asked as she sank into the sandy bank beside her.

“No!” Jester exclaimed, leaping forward to wrap her arms around Beau’s neck. Because whatever Beau had said, whatever she wanted now with Yasha, Jester couldn’t stand it if she left.

“Jessie… Jess… I…” Beau pushed her back, holding her shoulders to keep her at arm’s length. “What exactly did you hear?”

Jester sniffled and looked away.

“You know, that stuff about me knowing nothing about love apart from what I read in books and stuff.”

Beau breathed long and soft, then pulled her back into a hug, this one softer than the one before, full of tenderness that Jester hadn’t felt anywhere but in her mother’s arms.

“And that’s why you’re upset?” Beau asked, her voice as tender as her hug.

“Well yeah, obviously.”

This time, when Beau pulled back to look into her eyes, she looked scared and relieved at the same time. Which was… weird. And kind of confusing. And also a little scary.

“I didn’t mean it like that, okay? I just meant … Look, people don’t write – or I guess publish – books about real life. I was angry that the only books that people get to read are about stupid fairy-tale romances that bear no resemblance to what love is really like. And all the young girls that read them get fooled into thinking that’s what love is because that’s all they see, you know? And then when they find someone who fits that fairytale, they just settle for it because that’s what they think love is. Except it’s not.”

“I know that.”

Beau sighed.

“I know you do, Jess. And some of those other girls do to. But it’s hard to recognise something you’ve never seen. If I hadn’t found Tori, I might have been that girl who didn’t know what to look for or who she is.”

Jester shrugged and sagged back onto her heels, pulling out of Beau’s hold. She didn’t like it when Beau talked about Tori.

“Maybe if my Momma and Dad had stayed together…”

“Yeah, Maybe,” Beau said with a sigh. “But then your whole life would have been different and you might not be the you that you are right now.”

“Maybe that would be better?” Jester wondered. Maybe then she’d be more like Yasha. Stronger and more stoic. The kind of person that Beau really wanted to be around. Not some silly girl who liked to play tricks and eat sweets. Even if there was so much more to her that people just didn’t seem to see.

“I happen to think that you’re pretty great just the way you are. So don’t you dare think about changing that for someone else, okay?”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t think I’m stupid? Or a child?”

Beau smiled soft and warm.

“No, Jessie. I don’t. Not at all.”

Now Jester really was confused.

“Then what do you think I am?”

Beau smiled again, kind of sadly this time.

“The most incredible kind, funny, smart, beautiful person I’ve ever met.”

“Beau…”

“Listen Jessie, I know that you and Fjord maybe have this thing going on, but I love you and I can’t keep it in longer. And I don’t mean like a friend kind of love. I mean like the kind of love that people in your books have. Only real and really fucking painful.”

Jester was… Shocked. Beau was so… Beau. She was so incredible and amazing and okay maybe what Jester had been feeling wasn’t the normal kind of friend feelings. Friends don’t spend all night crying because they think their friend might be sleeping with someone else. At least, she didn’t think that they did. And what about…

“What about Yasha?”

Beau frowned, like she was confused beyond measure that this was the question that Jester was asking.

“What about Yasha? She’s a friend.”

“You shared a room with her last night.”

Beau sighed, understanding.

“Yeah. Fjord and I got into it a little bit and I needed some space to talk it out.”

“Space from me?”

“Yeah,” Beau admitted reluctantly.

“Why?”

“Because… Because Fjord said something out of order about my feelings for you and it… it pissed me off. And… scared me.”

“Why would it scare you?”

“Because I’m terrified that you’re going to fall in love with him and I’ll have to watch,” Beau admitted, her head hung and her voice so full of pain that it hurt Jester just to hear it.

“Beau, I’m not in love with Fjord,” Jester said seriously, insistently, leaning forwards so that her hands rested on Beau’s knees and she was so close that Beau couldn’t even try to look away.

“No?”

“No.”

“Good. That’s good. Because… well, that would kind of suck. Like really fucking suck.”

“Yeah,” Jester agreed, falling back into her own space. It would suck. Because Fjord was nice and all but he wasn’t Beau.

“Yeah,” Beau repeated, her face a little dazed. “So you’re not mad at me?”

“You didn’t mean to call me stupid. I just didn’t hear the whole conversation.”

“No, I mean, you’re not mad at me for having these feelings for you?”

“What? No!” Jester cried. “Of course not, Beau! Why would I be mad?”

Beau shrugged, avoiding her eyes again.

“I’m not mad,” Jester promised. “I’m just a little confused.”

“How come?”

There were those eyes again. Soft and understanding. Calm and raging all at once. A little like the ocean.

“Well, when Fjord had to give me air in the ocean it was kind of like a kiss, you know? And I’d never been kissed before so after I asked Nott how it was supposed to feel.”

“And what did she say?”

“I don’t remember exactly. But it was something about how it felt like this whole big thing that made you feel properly alive or something. I don’t really understand what she meant because I already feel alive…”

Beau laughed, nodding.

“You’re the most alive person I know.”

“I know right? So, anyway. She said all of that and I realised that when Fjord and I kind of kissed it didn’t really feel like anything. Just a little bit scary and weird.”

“Okay.”

“Which I was not expecting at all because of Tusk Love, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What does it feel like to kiss a girl?”

Beau’s breath caught and for a minute Jester thought she was going to pass out.

“I can’t really say how it’s different,” Beau began tentatively. “I’ve never kissed a guy before. But kissing someone new sort of always feels different. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like very much and sometimes it does. It depends on the person. But I’ve never had fireworks or anything like they say in books. But I guess it could be because I’ve not really been in love with any of the women I’ve kissed. Not _in love_ , in love anyway.”

“Do you want to kiss me?”

She’d said it before she even realised that she was going to say it. But as soon as it was out of her mouth she knew that it was right. This is what she wanted. This is why she had lain awake all night fearing what Yasha could give to Beau. This was the fiarytale she wanted, not some perfect romance. She wanted real. She wanted her best friend. She wanted the girl who made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Who always went along with her crazy ideas and never once judged her for it. The girl who was always there. The one who made Jester’s heart beat faster than it ever had before. Even when she had been facing down that dragon all alone.

“Jester…”

Jester shook her head and realised she had been monologuing in her head but not out loud and now Beau looked worried.

“All I could think about last night was that Yasha might be kissing you and I was super jealous because I don’t want anyone kissing you but me.”

That wasn’t quite the extent of it, but Jester’s mind was messy right now and she wasn’t sure how to articulate that epiphany she had just had in words that didn’t sound like nonsense.

But, as it turned out, it didn’t matter. Because Beau froze on hearing those words. Froze like a rabbit caught in a fox’s glare. Then she smiled. _Really_ smiled. And kissed her.

The moment that Beau’s lips touched hers, Jester didn’t see fireworks, she saw whole constellations exploding behind her eyes. Hot, nervous tension flooded her, rushing into her chest from every corner of her body until she felt sure that she was glowing. Her hands grabbed for Beau’s robes, desperate to pull her closer. To make sure that the kiss would never end because this… _this_ was what Nott has been talking about. This was the kind of world-changing kiss that made everything fall into place. The kind of kiss that punctuated a life. The kind that divided it into the time before she knew what it was like to kiss Beau – Beau who was her best friend, her roommate, her real life fairytale – and the time after it when nothing made sense but wanting Beau and needing Beau and _loving_ Beau.

Because that was what she had been feeling. She knew it now. Knew it for sure. This was what her Momma had told her about. _This_ was love.

“Jessie? Jess, are you okay? I didn’t fuck up did I?”

She realised that she had stopped kissing Beau and had gotten caught up in her own head again. And Beau was looking at her because of it so soft and broken. So wonderfully beautiful and afraid.

“No,” she whispered, kissing her again. “You didn’t fuck up Beau. You did everything just right, okay?” She kissed her again. “I promise.”

This time, Beau looked dazed when she pulled away.

“You smell like roses.”

Jester grinned. “I broke into the bathhouse.”

“What? No way?”

“I drew the biggest dick on their wall. It was awesome! But I also left some money because I felt kind of bad for using a whole bottle of scented oil.”

“Yeah, we can pay for that stuff now, so it’s not as much fun to take it,” Beau reasoned.

“I know right! What’s up with that?”

“I guess they’re not the establishment now or whatever. We’re richer than them so it’s not like taking from the rich and giving to, well, us. Because we’re the rich ones now.”

“That’s pretty smart, Beau.”

“Thanks, Jess,” Beau said, kissing her with a smile. “You can still draw the dicks though. And mess with their stuff.”

“You want to come with me next time?”

“Always.”

Jester smiled, her happiness so big that she felt like she was floating.

“I love you, Beau. The proper kind. Not just the friend kind.”

Beau’s smile was like a warm ocean breeze.

“I love you too, Jessie.”

And then Beau kissed her long and deep. She pressed her down into the sand and covered her face with soft kisses that made her giggle, before pressing back into her mouth, opening her up and bringing back those fireworks.

Jester hadn’t know what romantic love was. Not until she had met Beau. But this, this was the stuff that real fairytales were made of.


End file.
